delicatefractal Jun 2011
It's time for me to go, love
            but please,
act like you want me
            to stay.
I don't want to be alone
Give me an excuse for one more moment
            to lay
close to your heart--my weariness to
Let's sleep together on the sofa
            till dawn.
Shofi Ahmed Jul 12
I wanted to walk
along the earth
on this great shore.

But before long
it dips in the sea
into the ocean.

It's not a problem
I see is a virgin
still has the cloths on!
Your eyes
are time capsules in my mind.
The memory of you there,
fingers lingering through my hair.
Begging me
to lock my lips with yours.
I posed from a distance,
sipping on my infidelity.
How it made its way
across your body
so meticulously,
imploring you to want me.
You asked,
but I didn't know what to say
so I just kissed you.
I still see you sometimes
in the peripherals of my mind,
though the contours of your face
are beginning to blur as they do
with any beautiful stranger.
I can't tell whether the image of us
is a painting or a picture:
something I've carefully constructed
or a moment merely manifested.
But I do know
that it was the blue in your eyes
and the white in my lie
that had me stay til dawn.
Shofi Ahmed May 2017
A night owl in the harvest moon
was awake till the crack of the dawn
but wasn’t surfing online, wasn’t rowing
the boat in the digital river.
Deep down to a dreamweaving scene
that was, in musing, painstakingly creative.

Wait till you snap up a witty aphorism.
The darling buds of May will be in bloom.
The tickled pink nightingale too will
give out its voice, singing a song.
Save a copy and tweet it to all,
but do give us a demo, tell us a bit more.
Where does it shine and sizzle?
Where did the winter tuck away the rose?
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Fake it till’ you make, people say,
And I wonder just how long people wait for that day.
Because everyone fakes something and makes something too,
Everyone just tries their best and barely gets through.

Fake it till’ you make, people say,
And some people, like myself, fake it every day.
Because inside their heads they say today they’ll make it through,
Everyone also wakes up and says that tomorrow, too.

Fake it till’ you make, people say,
And I don’t know how people wake up every day.
Because I wake up blue and brush a smile on my face,
Everyone else seems fine, but I doubt they can paint with grace.

Fake it till’ you make, people say,
And after almost twenty years it all just fades away.
Because I see others lives, and say hey that looks sweet.
Everyone looks fine, copy them, they must know reality’s beat.

Fake it till’ you make, people say,
And people say whatever, wake up, and go on their way.
Because people just accept realty is meaningless and lame,
Everyone gives up hope before they even know the game.
Honestly I believe that this mentality of Fake it till’ you make is inherently flawed as if its away to justify that you don't currently live in the future you want.
whatisthisplanet Mar 2016
the sailors called the sirens beautiful
they wept, tearing out their hair
and tossed it in to the ocean
turning into sea weeds.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
who hid themselves in caves, till they passed
their skin growing pale and lifeless
till feathers emerged from their hands.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
who mutilated their legs
and scarred their feet
so they would no longer be human.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
the creatures wailed as loud as they could,
screeching noises, ringing
sounded only like bells to men.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
they didn't see beauty or sin
walking vessels
and a prize to win.
harpies are described as repulsive half-bird half-human creatures that represented evil. however in early greek mythology, hesiod described them as beautiful winged maidens.
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